The Proposal
by flower-envy
Summary: Peeta's POV - proposing to Katniss


**Fic: **#3

**Prompt: **#23: Lovers

**POV:** Peeta

**Title: **The Proposal

**Book:** _Catching Fire_

**Word Count: **1,464

I can feel the smile spreading across my face when she suggests it. But then I see the look on her face, realize she is only saying it to satisfy the masses, and my heart sinks. It was all I'd wanted since I was five years old, yet now all I want is to say no. But, at the same time, I'm aware of the Capitol's close eye, and I know she's in the right. It only hurts because it seems like, once again, she is sacrificing herself for me.

And so it is decided: I'll propose before the cameras, the audience, the president, Gale, her mother and sister, my family. Everyone. So much for privacy. And she'll fake it, looking as thrilled as possible – it is likely she will simply bury her face in my shirt so the cameras won't see how upset, how incapable of excitement over this, she is.

I can hardly blame her, and I have no right to be angry with her – yet I find my blood boiling in my veins and my fists slowly clenching. To avoid upsetting Katniss, or throwing something in front of her, I leave the room. I allow my door to slam behind me, as she had when I originally confessed my love for her.

I barely sleep – lying awake, I wonder how I'll ask, if I'll even be able to in front of all of them, if I can stand knowing that she's saying yes for _them_ and not for _her_.

When Effie raps on my door shouting about a "big, big, big day" ahead, I groan and roll out of bed. I don't bother to shower because the prep team will do that for me, so I snag the nearest shirt and pair of pants and head down to breakfast, hoping against hope that Haymitch won't ask questions and Katniss won't notice that I hadn't slept.

Breakfast is eaten in silence. Effie's frail attempts at conversation don't bring any of us to answer. I'm usually the one holding the conversations at meals, but I have no interest in speaking today. I watch silently as the red-headed Avox girl serves Katniss another roll, and I wonder what it would be like to lose your tongue, to never be able to say anything again – but most of all to never have the _responsibility_ to say anything again. I regret the thought immediately, and I can feel the blood pool in my face as my guilt manifests in a blush. Effie looks at me questioningly, but refrains from asking, and Haymitch looks back and forth from me to the Avox and knows right away what I had been thinking. Katniss stares silently at her meal, picking at it slowly in disinterest. And I realize I haven't been eating my breakfast either.

Effie pulls me aside and asks gently about what's bothering me. As I'm considering my answer – Katniss is about to agree to marry me on live television because she thinks it'll save our families; there's no way in the world I would ever have gotten that yes if the Capitol weren't breathing down her throat; everything I've ever wanted is staring me in the face but to be happy about it is to betray her, and myself – my prep team arrives and whisks me away to get me ready. _Salvation_.

The prep team is chattering away as always, and I'm largely ignoring them, my mind lost in the coming hours. The makeup still feels foreign, the scents are still too strong, but nothing will break me from my thoughts today.

When Portia comes in, she dismisses the prep team, takes one look at me, and says, "What's on your mind, sweetie?" She'd always been able to read me better than almost anyone.

I hesitate a moment, but in the end I decide to confide in her. "I'm asking Katniss to marry me today."

"During the interview, darling?"

"...Yes."

"And this was Haymitch's idea?"

I look down at the floor as I mutter almost inaudibly, "Katniss's."

She cups her hand under my chin and gently lifts my face up to look in her eyes. "That's a bad thing, dear?"

My voice comes out far louder than I had meant it to, "Yes, it is. She's only going to say yes because –" Portia lifts the index finger of her other hand to her lips nonchalantly, but I get the message. _Shut up; don't let on that it's not real – we are on camera, of course._ I continue, quieter now, "Because we're on television... I wanted it to be private, personal, quiet, romantic. Instead, I'm going to have the entire country breathing down my neck, their knuckles going white as they grip their seats too tightly, hanging on my every sappy word."

"Do you know what you'll say yet?" she asks, the hint of curiosity in her voice is more for the cameras' benefit than mine.

"Not sure yet..." I answer timidly.

"Well, you'll figure it out, doll. And it'll be brilliant."

"I hope so," I mutter as Portia begins to put the finishing touches on my makeup.

We stand in silence for the remainder of her work, and when she's done she gives me a big hug. "Knock 'em dead, hon," she whispers into my ear.

Katniss is all ready in the room when I arrive. This interview is more low-key, and there is no studio audience. We go through the questions, Katniss sitting silently beside me, giggling and giving simple answers whenever she must speak. I take the lead, like always, but I don't really know what I'm saying. I feel the words coming out, and I hear the sounds they make, but my mind is lost in the imminent proposal. I feel Katniss burrowing deeper into my shirt, and know that it's nearly time. And suddenly my tongue feels heavy, my jaws tense – it's as if no more words can escape my lips. So, mid-sentence, it seems, I drop to one knee on the floor before her.

Katniss is looking down at me with the deep, loving eyes she puts on for the cameras, a look of shock mixed with excitement on her face. I'd never thought she was this good at acting, but I guess she was finally pulling it off.

_Or maybe..._

I push the thought aside, trying desperately to ignore it...

_Maybe she really is excited._

The moment the thought forces its way to the foreground, tears begin to fill my eyes. I feel her hand brush my cheek, fingers gently wiping the escaping tears from my skin before they ruin my makeup. She smiles down at me, and it seems genuine, and everything I am comes pouring from my mouth, unstoppable.

"Since I first saw you, the singing girl on the first day of school, I dreamt of the day I would have built up enough courage to just say 'hi' to you. Of course, that day didn't come quite as I had imagined, but it came nonetheless. And even as a tribute for the Hunger Games, I was happier than I had ever been in my life – because suddenly I could talk to you, I could spend time with you, and I could protect you.

"Everything I did in the Games, I did for you. All I wanted was to keep you safe, because you were all that mattered. You're everything I've ever wanted, and I never let myself think that a day like today would come – when not only do I love you more than anything in Panem, but you love me, too," I pause to catch my breath, wringing her hand between both of mine. As I do, she takes the cue to smile wider, gasp a little, nod sweetly. _She really is acting this out splendidly._ "I want nothing more than to spend every moment of the rest of my life with you. Katniss Everdeen, will you marry me?"

The room is dead silent. All I can hear is my own heart beating too fast, too hard, as if it wants to escape from its prison behind my ribs. Katniss has the perfect look of shock and pleasure on her face. The hand she had kept on my cheek throughout the proposal had shot up to her mouth as her jaw dropped open at the final question. I really was impressed at her performance, and couldn't help hoping that it wasn't all an act.

"Yes," she gasped out before throwing her arms around me there on the floor, knocking me to the ground. She landed on top of me, laughing, and I was laughing with her. She kissed me, and then offered me a hand up, and as she rose I realized she was blushing.


End file.
